


Time Away

by AoiTsukikage



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M, the real world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 09:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AoiTsukikage/pseuds/AoiTsukikage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He needs some time away, some time in the….well…normal world, to remind himself of it, because chances are he won’t be here forever.  Even if, he thinks as he looks to the side, at Cecil still gazing in wonder at the giraffe in the Dog Park, even if there are some things that might make it worth staying here forever for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Away

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the same ‘verse as [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/915088), but can be read by itself. Basically all that’s important to know is that my head!canon for Cecil having a third eye is that he can control when it appears.

They probably shouldn’t be this close to the Dog Park.

Everybody knows that you’re not allowed to enter the Dog Park.  Nobody would be foolish enough to enter the Dog Park after that pterodactyl was found with the flesh stripped from its bones, and while nobody knows exactly what’s  _in_ the dog park (he’s heard Chupacabra, which makes a fair amount of sense, but he doesn’t want to find out for himself), they know it’s probably death to go anywhere near it. 

It’s really a lovely park, though, so it’s a shame. 

“The zoo says it isn’t from there?”

“No, I talked to them yesterday and they said…well, it was hard to tell between all of the growling and the squawking, but I don’t think they have a giraffe.  At least, they don’t remember if they have a giraffe.  Maybe an invisible giraffe,” Cecil looks thoughtful, rubbing his chin before shrugging and crossing his arms. 

Luckily, Carlos thinks, the giraffe being a good 18-feet-tall means they can see it from quite a distance away from the dog park itself, and it certainly doesn’t look in any distress.  Which, considering the apparent fate of most creatures that enter the dog park, is probably a good thing.

He wonders absently to himself if he’s getting too complacent, if he can think about giraffes appearing out of nowhere and a dog park that neither dogs nor humans can use for fear of death and dismemberment while standing beside his….he’s still not sure what he and Cecil are, but standing beside a man with three eyes and not find any of it weird. 

Of course, living in Night Vale for a year probably does that to a person, but it starts a bit of an idea in his head, and he just hopes that everything goes according to plan.

He needs some time away, some time in the….well… _normal_ world, to remind himself of it, because chances are he won’t be here forever.  Even if, he thinks as he looks to the side, at Cecil still gazing in wonder at the giraffe in the Dog Park, even if there are some things that might make it worth staying here forever for. 

-

Getting permission is surprisingly easy. 

Or, perhaps, not that surprisingly, because he’d forgotten one really important thing when he’d gone to speak to the City Council: that people here  _like_ him. 

Or, rather, that people here like  _Cecil,_ and like whatever or whomever will make Cecil happy, and since Carlos does that, well…that means they like him.

Plus, as he was also told, Cecil’s never taken so much as a sick day or a vacation so he’s probably got quite a few stored up and maybe he should use some of them even though nobody in Night Vale takes vacations (said, of course, by the people…at least, Carlos _thinks_ the City Council are people…that buggered off to Miami when the town was in danger, but he’ll never voice that out loud). 

So he heads to the station, finding a Cecil that is surprisingly receptive of his idea (‘as long as it’s just a weekend, of course, I can’t abandon my listeners for longer than that, and somebody has to make sure Khoshekh has a constant supply of food and water’) and goes home to find a place that they can go to.

He’s nervous about taking Cecil, really, because Cecil is as much as part of Night Vale as the buildings and the streets and the strange occurrences and Carlos isn’t sure how he’ll react to a world where clocks actually work and strange lights in the sky always have an explanation, but he doesn’t want to make this trip alone.

And, maybe, the chance to spend time with Cecil away from the voyeuristic eyes of the City Council and Sheriff’s Secret Police is too inviting to pass up.

-

They leave early Friday morning, Carlos deciding they’ll take his car (Cecil’s tends to change color when nobody is looking.  And sometimes even when somebody  _is_  looking.  It would probably weird people out) and Cecil is nearly vibrating with excitement by the time they hit the highway and drive out of the Night Vale area. 

He expects…well, he doesn’t know what he expects, but some sort of sign that they’ve re-entered the normal world, but there’s nothing: the road is still a road, the desert is still a desert, and in fact the only indication comes a few minutes later when he realizes that the dashboard clock has started working again. 

It’s a bit of a relief, being in a place where time follows a strict course once more, and he settles in for the drive as the miles slip away behind them. 

The city he’s chosen for their little getaway isn’t too distant, just enough that he’s sure it’s far enough away that no lingering strangeness is going to reach them, and they pull into town just after lunchtime. 

He takes Cecil to Subway after assuring him that no, there’s definitely an exit, and that the menu’s probably different from what he’s used to, and he can tell that the other man is uncomfortable but he seems to relax once they’re seated and eating, reaching across the table at one point just to run his thumb over the back of Carlos’ hand and oh, yeah, that’s another thing he’ll have to mention. 

Because Night Vale, for as…odd as it is, seems to have no problem whatsoever with two men being in a relationship.  In fact, he hasn’t met one person that’s even so much as given either of them a disgusted glance on the street and he knows that out here, well, it’s not going to be that simple. 

“It’s so…peaceful,” Cecil comments at one point, both of them walking down one of the perfectly manicured downtown streets, coffees from Starbucks in hand (Carlos won’t admit it to anybody, but he  _has_ missed Starbucks, even though coffee itself is thankfully rather common in Night Vale).  “There’s no screaming, or growling, or otherworldly howls…is it always like this?”

“Usually,” Carlos replies absently, because even though there’s the normal hustle and bustle of a city street, after being accustomed to loud noises going off at all hours of the day, it does feel strangely silent.

Although, that’s not really a bad thing.  Not at all.

-

It isn’t until they get into the hotel room, well-equipped and modern and with a balcony so they can step outside if they need to, that Cecil makes it fairly obvious just how out of his element he is. 

Of course, whenever he decides to make his third eye appear it’s startling, but he stops just inside the doorway, still in perfect view of anybody from the hall, and Carlos has to quickly push him farther in and close the door. 

“ _Cecil,”_ he hisses, because this isn’t a conversation he wants somebody with a nose for gossip to overhear, “you can’t  _do_ that here…”

“I was checking for ghosts,” Cecil sounds unconcerned.  “You can’t expect to go into a bedroom and not check for ghosts.  What if they decide to visit when you’re asleep?  You… _do_ have ghosts here, don’t you?” and there’s a slight quaver to his voice now, a tiny bit of fear that he’s said or done something wrong, and Carlos sighs and wraps his arms around the other man as they stand there. 

“We do.  They’re not common, and people usually don’t notice them, but we do.  So are there any?”

“Nope, looks clear,” Cecil moves farther into the room, ever curious, touching everything from the television to the phone to the lamps and even the air conditioning unit on the wall before looking back at the washroom.  “Is it safe to take a shower?”

“Is it…” Carlos starts, and Cecil nods. 

“Yes, because… _oh,”_ he stops and says the word on an exhale, sounding sad and a little hurt, and Carlos decides that he doesn’t really  _like_ seeing Cecil confused and unsure because Cecil’s  _never_ confused or unsure, and the tables have completely turned now that they’re in a world where Carlos is the only one that knows what’s going on.  “Oh,” Cecil repeats, glancing toward the bathroom.  “It’s just water, isn’t it?  Always just water?”

And Carlos remembers belatedly that on Fridays in Night Vale showers more often than not tend to spew out something that resembles tar more than anything else, but here… “Just water,” he promises, and Cecil gives him a tiny smile, a barely-there quirk of his lips, before disappearing into the bathroom. 

Carlos sighs, and drops back on the bed, and decides to find a news station that covers more than just one town so he has half an idea what’s going on in a world that he no longer really feels like a part of.

-

“Somehow the night sky doesn’t look as menacing here.”

Carlos looks behind him and smiles, getting a slightly more confident smile in return as Cecil steps out onto the balcony.  He’s wearing the hotel-supplied bathrobe, hands tucked in his pockets and he’s got his third eye open again (Carlos suspects it’s because he wants to have control over  _something_ in this place and even though the balcony is still kind of a public area, he doubts anybody can see them). 

“It’s not menacing.  It’s…vast, certainly, but it’s just…”

“Stars,” Cecil’s looking up, backlit from the room, beautiful and mysterious himself and Carlos can’t help wrapping his arms around the other man from behind and hooking his chin over Cecil’s shoulder, needing to be close.  “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“You don’t regret coming?”

“I really don’t,” Cecil promises, and his voice is low and soothing, relaxed, as he leans back in Carlos’ arms and lets himself be held. 

“Oh.  Good,” Carlos nuzzles the other man’s neck and presses a soft kiss where the robe’s fallen away a bit, and Cecil sighs heavily and turns his head so that they can kiss properly.  “We, ah, is there anything you want to…”

“One thing.  Maybe,” Cecil’s got a glint in his eyes that can only mean one thing and Carlos shivers a little, entirely his body’s fault because they’re still close enough to the desert that the night air is warm and humid.  “I have a feeling that there are  _some things_ even in this place that are the same.”

The glance he directs toward the bed leaves no question at all as to what ‘things’ he’s talking about, and Carlos nods quickly, letting Cecil take his hand and lead him back into the room.


End file.
